Dysfunctionally Yours
by Morte Lise
Summary: AU. You all know the story. Lucky Sakura lands the lead role with longtime crush Sasuke in their school play, Romeo and Juliet. But wait...why does this Romeo seem more interested in his Mercutio than his Juliet?
1. Meeting the Cast

Author's Note

Okay, the school play idea has been done time and time again, but I've always been irked by the fact that people usually pair together (no matter WHO they are) the two leads. I have no real problem with this, but as one who has witnessed plays with heterosexual romance starring a straight girl and a gay guy, I can firmly attest that it doesn't always happen.

…Bah. I admit it. I just like screwing around with things.

I surprised the _Hell_ out of myself by looking back at the vague plotline I've assembled and realizing that it didn't contain even one of the extremely popular Naruto pairings, straight or yaoi. Go figure.

…Please note that I say that I merely do not have any of the extremely popular pairings. None of the pairings are completely obscure, and in fact the popular ones are in there, though either unrequited or short-lived because…yeah, they're kind of inevitably involved somehow. Please do not come after me, shrieking of my lies. Your screams may wake my dead Furby, and no one wants that.

I tell you now that the main pairing will be Sasu/Neji. Or perhaps it will be Neji/Sasu. One of the two, in any case. Please take note of this, oh ye unsuspecting readers, although those who use the character search probably discovered that already. It is thus because I like this pairing and there are not nearly enough Sasu/Neji stories out there, and even fewer multi-chaptered ones.

Please do enjoy the insanity.

Disclaimer: Oddly enough, there are the same number of letters in "Kishimoto" and my last name, but I write fanfiction, can't draw, live in America, and seriously doubt it's possible to spell my last name in katakana.

_

* * *

Chapter One: Meeting the Cast_

"Oh. _HELL_. No."

Naruto's cerulean eyes grew impossibly wider and more pathetic as Sasuke shoved the pink flyer back in his hands. Gaara, on the other hand, showed little reaction whatsoever, which the dark-haired boy found a bit ironic. It had, after all, been Gaara's idea. Oh, neither he nor Naruto had said it aloud, but it was obvious. As flamboyant as the blond could be, he wasn't the one with a Shakespearian wannabe for a brother and a fanatical musician for a sister.

Redhead was going down.

…Or he would be, except that the truth of the matter was that he did, in fact, have a Shakespearian wannabe for a brother and a fanatical musician for a sister. Ah, and there was Gaara himself to consider—creepy and detached, with just a dash of psychosis for spice.

Stupid Gaara, with his dysfunctional family and homicidal tendencies…

Whatever. That really wasn't the point.

Oh, right. The point.

"_Please?_" wailed Naruto, clasping his hands together and falling to his knees.

The Uchiha raised an ebony eyebrow at the other boy's uncharacteristic behavior before turning to his red-haired companion. "So. You finally threatened him with castration. That's got to be it."

The ghostly traces of a smile graced Gaara's lips even as Naruto winced and looked speculatively downward. "Hardly. But we all know you won't listen to _me_."

It was a valid point. Despite their similarities—or perhaps because of them—Sasuke and Gaara had never particularly gotten along. There was, of course, the differences in their 'school social status' to consider, but the truth of the matter was that there would never be any love between them no matter what the situation. Respect was another story, but simply being able to appreciate one another's abilities didn't mean they'd visit each other for tea and biscuits any time soon. Really, Naruto was the only thing they had in common—him, and their mutual confusion for why exactly they even _liked_ the blond maniac to begin with.

"It's Kankuro!" the aforementioned maniac blurted out suddenly. "He just keeps starring in _everything_—just because he's a junior doesn't mean he should steal the lead from us freshmen all the time!"

"You have no idea what it's like to be sitting across from _that_ at the dinner table," Gaara stated flatly. "If I have to hear him bragging about it _one more time_, they're going to be putting me up for first degree murder. Temari's contemplating suicide."

For reasons entirely unknown to Sasuke—not that he much cared, but still—the entirety of the Sabaku family participated actively in the drama club. The competition between the siblings was fierce, what with Kankuro acting as lead in the productions, Temari practically running a dictatorship in pit despite being nothing more than a wind player, and Gaara making a rather lasting impression on his fellow stage crew members through intimidation via extreme creepiness. It was next to inevitable that Naruto, Gaara's best friend, would then get involved as well.

Damn insomniac, knowing his Achilles heel and using it against him.

Sasuke attempted to look down at the oddly neon pink sheet of paper without cringing.

He failed.

Romeo and Juliet. Of all the plays to draft him as the lead for, it had to be Romeo and bloody Juliet.

"Come on, Sasuke!" Naruto begged once more. "You're popular—they'd all vote for you! And I _know_ you can act. Remember all those performances you were in with Itachi when you were younger?"

Ebony orbs narrowed, and suddenly the blond found himself pinned against the wall. "Never mention those. _Never_," the Uchiha hissed dangerously, left eye twitching out of control.

Ah, yes, his Stage Days. Back when his parents had signed both himself and his disgustingly (but no longer—ha, take THAT, Itachi) perfect brother for acting lessons for reasons they'd never seen fit to disclose to their hapless sons. The broiling stage lights…hours of memorizing lines…distressingly 'perky' teachers…even more disturbingly gothic teachers…the gaudy background paints (half the time he thought he'd go _blind_)…and oh god all those damn _frills_…

He still had nightmares sometimes.

A stinging sensation brought him back to his senses as one of Naruto's wildly flailing fists crashed into his cheek. He let go of the shorter boy, who had little time to enjoy the reprieve as Gaara snatched him up instead.

"No damaging the new lead!" the redhead snapped menacingly, and it was suddenly quite clear to Sasuke how exactly the Sabaku boy had been able to 'convince' Naruto to persuade him to audition.

Let it never be said that Sabaku Gaara could take things a bit more seriously. If he did, someone's mangled body was liable to end up in a dumpster somewhere.

The blond only scowled as his friend dropped him unceremoniously to the ground. "You're mental, both of you. And you are _so_ auditioning, Sasuke, even if me 'n Gaara have to knock you out and drag you there!"

The Uchiha actually took his word on that. Not only was _Gaara_ unstable, but _Naruto_ had his overzealously competitive moments as well. These moments came chiefly after Sasuke mouthed off to the blue-eyed boy one too many times. Given Sasuke's temperament, and the sheer amount of ease it took to rile up the blond, at least one of the aforementioned moments happened every time the two of them exchanged more than fifteen words.

Alas, he was left with but one option.

"Okay--" he started, but both conspirators glared at him warningly.

"If you slack on your acting," Naruto said pointedly, "I'll know."

"And _I_," Gaara added, narrowing his eyes, "will make sure you regret it."

The teen stared blankly at the pair. Lunatics, both of them. And sadly clever ones, at that. Damn them. Damn them to Hell.

…Or acting lessons. Heaven knows that was close enough.

"Fine!" he snapped finally, scowling at them both. "Fine, dammit FINE, I'll do it! But damn it, usuratonkachi, _you_ will be the one to explain to my track coach why exactly I won't be able to participate this season."

The blond paled. The boys' track team coach was known for being rather _competitive_ himself. And not only had Sasuke been on the team for two years already, but he was fast approaching on varsity level.

Sasuke did not envy him for now having to accomplish that task. Then again, Sasuke very rarely envied Naruto about anything.

Gaara put a bracing hand on his best friend's shoulder, glaring at the Uchiha. "You are one _heartless_ bastard."

"And you're one fucked up hypocrite."

An icy smile. "Touché." He turned to Naruto. "I'll go with you, if you like."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow even as the short boy smiled with relief, thanking the redhead profusely. It would be a cold day in Hell when he understood Gaara properly.

"Well," he said after a few moments of awkward, grateful-Naruto-induced silence, "if you're quite finished blackmailing me into _Hell_, I'm leaving."

"Good plan!" the once again chipper blond agreed.

Transactions completed, the three of them presently exited the out of order bathroom just in time to hear the bell heralding the end of after school class.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Hyuuga household, another individual was facing a similar predicament, though it came not from peer pressure but from the doings of his own family. Namely, his uncle.

Really, if Neji'd had anywhere else to go…

Oh well. He didn't.

"You want me to audition for the school play," Neji repeated numbly. He stared at his uncle, wondering if the man was serious. Or sober. Or sane. Or r_eal_.

"Yes," Hiashi stated calmly.

"_You_. Want _me_. To audition for the _school play_." Obviously, Neji was hallucinating. He _knew_ there had been something in the pastry Lee had offered him eighth period…

"Yes," his uncle said again, a mite less patiently this time. "Hinata has informed me that you are becoming increasingly antisocial as of late."

Had she really? Neji's deep gray eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. Oh, his sweet little cousin was going to _pay_ for this one.

Hiashi's mouth pursed into a thin line. "Whatever it is you're doing, Neji, I doubt it's healthy. Your father wouldn't have wanted this for you."

The long-haired boy flinched minutely. "And I suppose you'd know _exactly_ what he'd have wanted," he spat.

Leave it to dear old uncle to open old wounds five years later in his own _living room_. What a lovely family he had.

…Okay. Neji _knew_ Hiashi hadn't done it on purpose. It didn't exactly make him any less bitter.

What? Wasn't it _normal_ for a guy to mourn the death of his own _father_ for half a decade? …And blame his clearly _not_ responsible uncle for said death?

Well, no. No, it wasn't. Then again, it didn't help that up until the aforementioned death, the aforementioned father and aforementioned uncle had been locked in a family feud. _No one_ appreciates getting their deceased nemesis's (twin though he may have been) son dropped on them, and Hyuuga Hiashi was sadly no exception. Nor, for that matter, was Neji.

It was a wonder they ever fit in a civilized conversation.

Hiashi sighed. The same old argument, over and over again… "No," he confessed for what had to have been the second time in as many hours, "I suppose I wouldn't. But that doesn't change the fact that you seem to be sinking into _depression_ again. I'd rather nip it in the bud by getting you the social life you so refuse yourself than spend another fortune on therapy."

Neji rolled his eyes even as the words hit home. Yeah, that hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience for anyone in the Hyuuga household, least of all Neji himself. And if that stupid psychiatrist hadn't been pinching some Prozac for himself, Neji would cut off his own ponytail and eat it. And there was, of course, the matter of the _scars_…but he'd rather not think about that.

"Fine," he muttered in consent, suddenly too tired to get himself in another battle of the wills with Hiashi. "_Anything_ to stop pissing away the _family fortune_, right? It's not like I haven't been forced into this sort of thing before."

Then again, he'd gouge out his own eyes before going back to that accursed acting school.

Damn…stupid…tights… And oh, the _prancing_ they made you do in the musical productions… This couldn't possibly be anywhere _near_ as tormenting as _that_ had been.

And it's not like he'd actually get a lead role, anyway.

* * *

Sakura practically bowled over Shikamaru in her zeal as she pranced—yes, _pranced_—over to Ino. "Ino! You will _never_ guess who's auditioning for the part of Romeo!"

The blonde turned to her all-purpose friend-and-rival with the smallest of frowns on her cherry-glossed lips. "It's _got_ to be a rumor," she snorted derisively. "_My_ Sasuke-kun is _far_ too high-maintenance to try out for something as silly as our stupid school play."

The pink-haired girl placed manicured hands on slim khaki-covered hips. "Well if school plays are so _silly_, why do _you_ audition for them?"

Sapphire glared into emerald. "Because _I'm_ an actor and artist, first and foremost. Sasuke's super-jock. School plays are _so_ beneath him."

Sakura smiled triumphantly. "Well, expect some competition this time. _I'm_ auditioning, too!"

A golden eyebrow raised. "And that's supposed to make me feel threatened?" Ino asked skeptically. "I've been taking acting lessons since I was eight, Sakura. And geez, why are you willing to brave the humiliation for a stupid _rumor_?"

"It's not just a rumor!" Sakura snapped, hackles rising as the argument began to heat up. "Naruto told me himself! And if _Naruto's_ positive, then it's gonna happen. And for your information, I've been practicing my ass off with acting ever since that _incident_ in seventh grade." Her eyes narrowed in remembrance.

Ino smirked. "Ah, yes…the incident. I remember it well. Trust me, Sakura, this isn't going to turn out any better than that. There's no way in _Hell_ you're winning Sasuke-kun."

"Well, I doubt he goes for snorting _pigs_, Ino," Sakura sneered, danger flashing in already intense jade orbs.

"I don't think he thinks too highly of people with foreheads that can be confused with _chalkboards_ either, Sakura," shot back Ino, responding with every bit as much competitive fury.

"How about you both cut the theatrics?" interrupted Shikamaru's lethargic voice. Two infuriated heads snapped around to stare at the pony-tailed boy. He gazed back with minimal interest, body sprawled out lazily on a bench nearby.

"Yeah, can we go get something to eat?" whined Chouji, forlornly shaking out an empty potato chip bag from his cross-legged seat on the scuffed linoleum floor.

"SILENCE, PATHETIC MINIONS!" shrieked Ino. "You are _RUINING A PERFECTLY DRAMATIC MOMENT_!"

Chouji began choking on some miniscule piece of forgotten potato chip. Shikamaru just rolled his eyes.

"And it becomes painfully obvious why they chose you as Lady Macbeth for the last production," he pronounced sardonically, leaning over to whack his best friend in the back and therefore free his windpipe of ye renegade potato chip.

"I do hope you're referring to my sparkling personality and unparalleled acting skills," Ino purred in a deceptively serene voice laced with venom.

The reluctant genius winced. "…Yeah. Sure."

The moment now effectively ruined, Sakura gave one final huff of annoyance before spinning on her heel and walking away. "Mark my words, Ino!" she called behind her. "It'll be _my_ Juliet to _his_ Romeo! There's no way I'm losing this one!"

"We'll see about that one, Sakura!" the blonde shot back.

It was not until the sound of Sakura's footsteps faded into silence that Ino finally allowed the devious smile that had been threatening ever since the pink-haired girl had announced the news to creep on to her face. "Let the play begin," she trilled happily with a theatrical sweep of her hands.

Shikamaru grimaced. "For the love of God, don't drag me and Chouji into this ridiculous scheme of yours."

Ino pouted and let her arms drop. "Oh, fooey. Fine."

* * *

Shino _knew_ he shouldn't have left that project until the last minute. All-nighters left him feeling stoned the next day, and with his luck and choice in friends it was inevitable that he'd be woken by some horribly loud something or other just as he began drifting into the sweet sanctuary of sleep. Nevertheless, he dropped like a stunned crow on to his bed the moment he reached his room following school. Dark eyes drifted shut behind even darker glasses—taking them off would take too much damn _effort_, though he knew he'd regret it in the morning—and he began to hope against hope that for once his sleep would go undisturbed.

An insidiously happy and annoying abomination of a jingle deceptively named 'Bubble' played its wretched electronic tune on Shino's cell phone.

Damn. It. All. To. Hell.

He momentarily considered just chucking the thing out the window and stopping it that way, but he knew that would never do.

There was, after all, a reason he chose such a horrible melody to serve as that particular individual's ring.

And this person would not be denied, oh no. He would continue to call—for the next three hours, if necessary—and once it became obvious that Shino would not answer, would make the long sojourn to the bespectacled boy's own house, where he would proceed to ring the doorbell until Shino finally upped and answered it.

His foe would not rest until he got whatever it was he wanted, and therefore Shino could see no point in resisting. He abandoned his attempts at sleep and picked up the phone.

"Hello, Kiba."

"Hi, Shino!" the other boy greeted brightly, completely unaware of the inner anguish he was causing his best friend.

"What is it this time?" Shino asked monotonously. While any other person would have accredited this to his sheer fatigue, Shino knew better—he could be high as a kite on sugar and opium and he'd probably _still_ sound exactly the same.

Kiba laughed sheepishly, his pet dog Akamaru adding an enthusiastic bark in the background. "Eheh. I, uh, kind of _lost_ Hinata's number again—could you give it to me?"

Really, it was a pity friends were a mandatory requirement in the high school social status quo. Ah, well. He'd tolerated Kiba this long; he could continue to do so.

"Kiba, I taped it to the back of your phone, along with my phone number. And your own, for that matter."

"Oh…right." Shino could practically _see_ Kiba turning over the phone and staring at it blankly, face full of embarrassment.

"…Yeah. Okay then. If that's all you need…" The tired boy let the prospect hang.

He was met with silence. The wrong _kind_ of silence. Oh, this was no right-then-I'll-hang-up-now sort of silence. No, this was most definitely an oh-one-more-thing silence.

"Actually, Shino… I was kind of hoping we could three-way this one. I think Hinata will need the support. Didn't you see how _hysterical_ she looked today?"

Social order be damned. And anyway, what was a little homicidal attempt between friends?

The dark-haired boy scowled darkly at his cell phone before giving in to the dog-lover's request. Fatigue made him infinitely less adamant.

"Told her father about Neji, did she?" he asked Kiba as the line began to ring once more.

A sigh came from the other end. "Yeah…and she's ready to have a breakdown, I think."

Personally, Shino couldn't blame her. While Hinata was certainly more…timid than most, it was also true that Neji wasn't exactly the most stable human being alive. The boy was prone to the occasional nervous breakdown, and had, in fact, reached such a state of manic depression several years back that he'd nearly needed to be hospitalized. There was also his antisocial behavior to consider, but as a lover of isolation himself, Shino had found nothing unusual about that preference.

Oh, it wasn't as though Neji's instability was known throughout the school—in fact, Shino could quite literally count on one hand the number of knowledgeable people within the high school and be left with a finger to spare. Neji had never taken it upon himself to get friends, and Hinata had only Shino and Kiba. The rest of the world remained ignorant.

And speaking of friends…there were times when Shino was less-than-satisfied with the ones he'd chosen. It worked, to a degree, very simply because they were all outsiders in their own special way. Shino himself was fairly certain he exuded some sort of people-repelling aura—not that he minded, for quiet suited him well enough. …Okay, there was also the whole bug thing, but it was rare that anyone got to know him well enough to even find out about _that_.

Hintata, on the other hand, had started out so shy and emotionally withdrawn that she'd had a tendency to burst into tears when someone so much as _looked_ at her wrong. Friendship helped boost her confidence quite a bit, but it hardly meant she didn't have her 'moments.'

Shino had never quite figured out why Kiba didn't have any other friends. He strongly suspected it had something to do with his insatiable love for his dog and his overly cheerful demeanor. The first time Shino had met Kiba, he'd thought that perhaps the other boy was high on something.

Upon getting to know him, he was horrified to discover he was right. Kiba _was_ high.

On life.

Shino had not been so disturbed since an exterminator accidentally massacred his ant farm when he was six.

"Hello?" chirruped the eager voice of Hinata's younger sister, Hanabi, wresting Shino from his thoughts and slow decent back into slumber.

"Hey, Hanabi!" greeted Kiba happily. "It's Kiba."

"Say no more," the young girl replied, a note of amusement in her voice. "I'll go get her. But _geez_, she sure is a wreck. You guys have your work cut out for you."

Shino didn't bother to question how Hanabi knew there were two people on the other line. This sort of incident had once been rather frequent—back in the early months of the trio's friendship.

There was a moment of awkward silence between Aburame and Inuzuka as the muffled sound of Hanabi's footsteps pounding up the stairs could be heard on the other line. A scuffled noise signaled the passing of the phone, and then Hinata's quiet sniffling filtered distressingly clearly through Shino's cell.

"H-He's g-g-going to be so m-_mad_ at me, I just know it!" the girl bemoaned, the occasional hiccupping sob interrupting her sentence.

"It's okay, Hinata," Kiba tried to assure her gently, but the Hyuuga would have none of it.

"H-He'll m-_murder_ me for this!" she wailed dramatically—so dramatically, in fact, that Shino would have questioned her sincerity had it been anyone else. Unfortunately, this was pretty typical Hinata. "He _hates_ acting!"

"He won't murder you," the dog-lover laughed derisively on the other line. "He's _suicidal_, not _homicidal_! Right, Shino?"

Privately, the insect fanatic was inclined to disagree. He'd met Neji a few times before, and from what he'd seen of the Hyuuga boy, Neji was liable to _either_ disorder. Of course, it's not as though he'd let Hinata know that.

"…Yes. Right," he agreed dully.

There was a slight pause as Hinata blew her nose and attempted to stifle her sobs. "Thank you for always putting up with me, you two," she murmured softly. "I really do appreciate it."

Kiba cheered happily. "YES! We got a stutter-free moment! Dude, we should totally go out to celebrate with ice cream!"

Shino could only sigh wearily at the other boy's obvious ploy. Suddenly his fatigue came rushing back to him, and he decided to do something that could very well end in his own death—refuse Kiba.

"Sorry…I think I'll pass on this one," he muttered, finally slipping off his glasses and placing them on his bedside table. "I pulled an all-nighter last night. I'm wiped."

"Aw, man…"

"Ah…I'm so sorry, Shino."

He resisted rolling his eyes, even though the other two couldn't see him. "You know…you _could_ always go without me. It wouldn't _kill_ you if you two went together."

"But it's always the three of us!" Kiba began to protest, then paused. "…But I guess we could. You up for it, Hinata?"

"Ah…I-I suppose so." Then, to Shino, "You should go catch up on your sleep…after all, music auditions are coming up."

"Yeah, see you later, Shino!"

There were two clicks. Shino stared blankly at his phone for a moment before chucking it squarely into his hamper and flopping back down on his bed, his mind buzzing with hazy thoughts.

Half of those revolved around the musical auditions. The auditions were for pit, and despite the fact the music was most often eons easier than the pieces they played their respective music classes, it was no less competitive. It was only through sheer will and determination that Shino had been able to keep a tentative place as either first or second chair cello—really, the competition was ridiculous. Kiba was in a constant deadlock with a fellow violist for first chair, and Hinata's nerves barely allowed her to get into the pit orchestra at all, though she persevered more often than not and situated herself comfortably in the back of the violin section.

The other half revolved around Hinata and Kiba. The two definitely had potential as a couple—though Kiba was too blind to see it and Hinata too busy being smitten over some hyperactive blond in stage crew. Really, they were impossible sometimes… Of course, if they did somehow manage to hook up, Kiba's sheer obnoxious rating would go down and Hinata's self-confidence would increase exponentially.

…Well, Shino had never fancied himself a matchmaker, but hey, try everything once…

He was still pondering over the matter as he drifted to sleep.

* * *

Author's Note

By far the most shocking thing I found about this chapter was the fact that I made Shino a cellist. But that's okay, because cellos are awesome. And I'm not saying that because I play the cello…because as a matter of fact, I _don't_ play the cello. ...And the mention of the 'Bubble' ringtone? That actually exists. It's on my phone, and while annoyingly chipper it's probably not as bad as I made it out to be.

Don't ask me why Neji's disturbed. That wasn't part of the Plan. Neji wrote himself. Seriously, he did. I looked back upon what I had written for his partand thought, "What the Hell?" Then again, it was some ridiculous hour like four in the morning, for I am an insomniac, it is summer, and the writer's block only allows itself to die during ungodly hours when I'm not supposed to be awake. Alas, psychotic Neji ensured his survival by integrating himself heavily into the plot. Hurrah. (Please ignore the fact that I'm contradicting myself)

…This was amazingly fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it. Please review, and constructive criticism is completely welcome, although every time you flame, one of Shino's bugs dies. Do you really want to traumatize him again?

…If you answered yes, you are a cruel, cruel little bug-hater. Fie for shame.


	2. Setting the Stage

Author's Note

Um…man. This took a really long time. Well, this is mighty awkward. Sorry about that everyone. I swear that it will never again.

…Keeping of that promise may prove optional.

I could give you all my perfectly understandable excuses, but that would take up space in the author's note, and at this point that would just be oh so cruel.

Still, it is necessary to lengthen it just a tad for this: reviewers, I love you. I really do. You are awesome people. THANK YOU!

Disclaimer: I am not a man. I am certainly not an artist. I…actually am part Japanese, but I ask you kindly to disregard that. Add up the facts, good sirs and madams, and you shall see that I don't own Naruto.

* * *

_Chapter Two: Setting the Stage_

_Maybe Gaara's right_, Sasuke mused on his way to his locker after school. _Maybe homicide _is_ a viable option._

The Day had finally arrived, and the Uchiha was beginning to believe that he could, in fact, take on the redhead in a one-on-one fight to the death if it was absolutely necessary.

Then again, Naruto had already spoken to his coach and just barely gotten away with his own life, and even Sasuke wasn't quite heartless or desperate enough to make the blond's sacrifice in vain.

But oh, how he was considering it.

His nerves were already shot, and with the impending threat of, well, _Gaara_ hanging over his head he'd made sure to read over his lines until he could no longer see straight the night before. When his sight had failed, he'd moved on to an audiocassette tape.

Yeah. Gaara could be _that_ scary, even to an Uchiha.

Hey, wait…

Poison! Yes! Poison would work! And think of the irony!

The real Romeo would be proud.

Sasuke shook his head absently, rejecting the idea even as he spun his locker combination. He really should've gotten more sleep the previous night. Not that he could've, between his obsessive studying and Naruto's pestering phone calls.

A heinously short skirt and pair of long, fanatically over-shaven legs suddenly entered his line of vision as he stooped to recover a renegade notebook at the bottom of his locker.

"GOOD LUCK, SASUKE-KUUUN!" screamed Generic Fan Girl Number 347. Directly in his ear. At 130 decibels. In falsetto.

A single ebony eye began to twitch.

347, prepare to meet your maker.

Unfortunately, before he could bludgeon said Generic Fan Girl with his ten-pound biology textbook; the offender had already flounced over to join the rest of the Generic Fan Mob. He would've added a "girl" between "fan" and "mob" if not for the fact that, sadly, there were a large number of boys in the group as well.

Damn. He couldn't get them _all_. They'd have him in their neurotic greedy little clutches before he could finish them all off. And being in their captivity would make the play look like a godsend.

"Sasuke, the auditions are--" began a considerably different voice, and it was then that the Uchiha's single, solitary, and incredibly overtaxed nerve decided to snap.

"I K_NOW_!" he screamed, throwing his textbook back into the locker and creating a noticeable dent in the metal wall. "I KNOW, already! 'The auditions begin the _moment_ the after school bell rings in the auditorium.' God, Naruto, you've only reminded me after EVERY SINGLE _FUCKING_ CLASS! You _interrupted my math class_ to remind me fourth period, and then you did it _again_ not fifteen minutes ago! Who in their right mind let you out of class anyway? Do you know how many of those idiotic airheads have been chasing me since they found out about your little stunt? I hope you're happy, because after I play the part of your happy little Romeo, you are going to be _sorry_. There will be _fire_, and _brimstone_, and an _eternity_ of pain, and so help me when this over it doesn't matter if your precious '_Sakura-chan'_ ever _does_ show an interest in you, because you are NEVER having children--" He slammed the locker door shut and realized, belatedly, that the eyes staring at him were not blue, but green.

"…Oh. Hello, Gaara."

"Where would you hide the body?" the redhead pointed out calmly.

Oh, don't think that muted smile went unnoticed, Sabaku. Sasuke made a few mental notes regarding his psychotic acquaintance.

One involved thumbscrews.

"I live in a big house with an underpaid staff," he replied wryly. "I'm sure I could think of something." He frowned slightly. "Where is he, anyway?"

A look of utter disgust flashed across the redhead's face. "With his '_precious Sakura-chan'_," he sneered.

Sasuke hauled his bag over one shoulder and began heading reluctantly toward the auditorium, Gaara at his side. No doubt, the redhead was trying to make sure he didn't go back on his deal and haul his ass out of there. Well, damn. So much for that plan. "You really hate that girl, don't you?"

The Sabaku boy shrugged. "She's obsessed with_ you_, remember?"

The Uchiha rolled his eyes. "No, that's why_ I_ hate her. What's _your_ excuse?"

"Well, that proves skewed judgment on her part, for starters." He smirked as the dark-haired boy shot him a half-heartedly dark glare. "She's pathetic. He could do better."

"Is she?" Sasuke asked absently. "I don't know much about her…other than she's obsessed. With me. She's number 124, I think."

Gaara snorted. "You should label them. I'm sure they'd be flattered at being reduced to laminated, numbered tags."

"The sad thing is they probably would." He frowned in thought. "Would it really be_ so_ _bad_ if he _did_ get her, though? I mean, she'd get a life and he'd…have someone who could actually convince him to see if he needs Ritalin." He raised an eyebrow at the redhead's murderous expression. "…Apparently it would. You haven't looked that pissed since that seven-year-old asked if you were the Antichrist last year."

Gaara smiled darkly in remembrance. "Little Tohru is going to remember that day for quite a long time…" He shook off the cobwebs. "I have my reasons. I'd rather he not end up with someone that _shallow_. He'd get eaten alive."

Sasuke shot him a suspicious look. "You seem a little _too_ interested in--"

The redhead scowled and pushed him none-too-gently toward the auditorium door. "_That_, thankfully, is not your problem right now. Go on. You have Judgment Day to face."

The Uchiha stared blankly at the door, wondering when it had bothered to materialize in front of him. "Let me guess. You'll be waiting right here to make sure I don't bolt on you."

The dark smile returned. "Of course not. I'll be in the audience, making sure you make good on _all_ parts of your promise." Gaara shoved passed him through the door, leaving the ebony-haired boy alone with his thoughts.

Sasuke sighed.

"Well, _damn_."

* * *

"Shouldn't we be, y'know, _practicing_ instead of doing this?" Kiba complained, kicking the seat in front of him. Fortunately for all parties present, said seat happened to be empty. "I mean, the music's pretty easy, but it's not _that_ easy."

Shino raised an eyebrow, regarding the dog-lover critically through his dark lenses. "Be honest, Kiba. Were you really going to practice anyway?"

Suddenly, Kiba had trouble meeting the other boy's eyes. "…Yes…" he muttered defensively.

"Similar to the way you were going to do your music theory homework?"

He scowled. "Hey, that stuff's in treble clef, man! Treble clef! That's like a whole different language!" His eyes narrowed. "An _evil_ language, meant for those hammy, self-centered, big-headed dastardly UPPER STRINGS!" He paused and turned apologetically to his left. "Um…but not you, Hinata."

She smiled shyly. "It's okay…"

Reassured, Kiba continued with his rant. "I mean, where do those guys get off being so damn arrogant all the time? Is there something MAGIC about the E string or something? What, so they get all the solos just because they can make people's ears bleed? _I could make people's ears bleed if I wanted to!_" he screamed.

Hinata and Shino stared at him, speechless. Well, Hinata was speechless. Shino, as always, was merely silent. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, there were others in the audience willing to lend their opinions.

"We know, Inuzuka," answered a voice coolly from several seats in front of them. Sabaku Gaara turned around and shot the boy a pointed glare.

Kiba's mouth snapped shut with a click. He slid down in his seat.

"Mmph," he concluded weakly.

Shino knew the source of the dog-lover's discontent. All right, Kiba had an irrational grudge against the violin as an instrument that the Aburame had never understood, but that wasn't the only problem. The true problem lay in the upcoming auditions, and Kiba's newly found rivals.

In the Inuzuka's eyes, the twins truly were a pair of nuisances.

The twins Sakon and Ukon (family name pending, as Kiba hadn't heard it spoken yet and neither one felt the overwhelming need to enlighten him) were both technically violinists, although as the less skilled brother Sakon had taken it upon himself to invade the viola section, usurping Kiba's position in first chair on occasion as a result.

The two of them hated one another with a fiery passion, and family loyalty didn't help the situation, either.

Shino sighed.

He listened too much. It probably wasn't healthy for him to be more aware of the events of his friends' lives than his own.

"So, uh, why are we here again?" Kiba whispered several minutes later, darting nervous glances toward the reputably psychotic Sabaku.

Shino looked at Hinata. The dark-haired girl blushed deeply.

"I-I wanted to w-watch the auditions," she said softly.

As if on cue, her actual reason burst in through the auditorium doors and flew down the aisle, plunking down next to Gaara.

"Sorry about that, I had to go and wish Sakura-chan good luck!" Naruto told his friend brightly.

Hinata made a tiny squeaking noise, turned an impossible shade of red, and sank down even lower than Kiba.

Kiba, on the other hand, looked at the Hyuuga oddly, sat up straighter, and leaned over toward Shino.

"Is she okay?" he whispered dubiously.

Shino sighed for the umpteenth time that hour.

Sometimes, he hated people.

* * *

Neji was invisible.

He had to be. There was no way in Heaven or Hell he'd be standing backstage for the auditions without some form of protection, and he had decided a few minutes ago that invisibility would be it. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and wished really hard it would all go away and be some kind of retarded dream and—oh shit, was that LEE heading his way?

"Neji!" the heavy-browed maniac greeted brightly, clapping a far too enthusiastic hand on the other's back and nearly sending him into the music stands. "This is wonderful! To think that you, of all people, would decide to participate in our wonderful springtime of YOUTH!"

Neji's left eye twitched.

"Don't you mean springtime play?" he asked cautiously.

Lee looked momentarily confused. "Well…I suppose." The confusion cleared before the boy's face lit up in a positively brilliant smile and—oh God! His _eyes_! Neji's poor, tormented _eyes_! The crazy bastard had somehow actually managed to _blind_ him with a _smile_! Was that even humanly possible? "Of course, any chance to express yourself and discover your True Way is a time to celebrate the springtime of youth!"

"Of course," Neji deadpanned. The back of his mind had begun to take a trip down suicide creek and happily tossed away the paddle.

It wasn't that he _hated_ Lee.

…Then again, if he could barely even _think_ that with a straight face, maybe it was.

Still, Rock Lee was far from a bad person; he just happened to be quite close to what Neji considered to be an unbearable person. In fact, he was probably one of the special few that were right on the money.

Lee (or his personality, at the very least) was, in Neji's mind, an artfully aggravating combination between a morning person, a caffeine addict, a stoner, an optimist, and one of those weird cartoon characters from his childhood capable of bypassing all laws of logic. Prolonged exposure, he believed, would eventually lead to shortness of breath, sudden bouts of claustrophobia, seizures, manic depression, and, in a few rare cases, mild schizophrenia.

And then, there was the spandex. Neji usually forewent thinking about that in order to preserve what little sanity he had left.

Yes, Lee was quite possibly everything Neji was not, and the Hyuuga had an unfortunate tendency to dislike things that were not, well, Neji. Alas, this did not save the hapless boy, as his overzealous peer had taken an irrational liking to him and was not one to be easily discouraged. The pair had been seen together so often that the general public was under the impression that the two of them were…friends.

Insert shudder.

"What finally brings you to the theater?" Lee continued brightly, oblivious to the longhaired boy's inner anguish.

"Fate," Neji replied gloomily. Not true, for once, but it was his default answer, and he'd used it often enough that Lee probably wouldn't question it. Okay, he got strange looks every time he used it, but it was better than cheerfully informing the bowl-cut psycho that he was a recovering manic-depressive.

Erm. Right.

Sure enough, the other boy eyed him oddly for a moment before continuing. "I'm sure you'll do well in the theater! It's a wonderful experience! I'm quite good myself, but I have a long way to go before I reach the top. But I will get there, even if I must practice my lines a hundred times! Gai-sensei says, it's just like martial arts, Lee, just keep practicing and you, too, can become a genius of hard work!"

"Right." Neji mentally rolled his eyes. Yes, on top of all that other crap, he had to deal with Lee in martial arts. Oh, he beat the other boy easily, of course, but Lee seemed to think they were in some sort of idiotic competition because of it. As if Neji would ever sink to a level where—hey, wait…

"Gai-sensei?" he repeated. "As in, our martial arts instructor, Gai-sensei?"

Lee nodded enthusiastically. "Didn't you know? Gai-sensei is the drama teacher! Isn't it wonderful? Oh, I was so happy when I found out! A second opportunity to listen to the wise teachings of the great Gai-sensei!"

The electrical impulses in Neji's brain managed a few more pitiful flickers before sputtering out and dying. The gray-eyed boy quietly went into shock.

No way. No freakin' way. Even Fate could not possibly that cruel.

Rock Lee plus Maito Gai plus Shakespeare plus frilly costumes…why was he even still bothering to wake up in the morning?

So it was true, then. Fate really was a bitch.

He was vaguely aware of Lee grabbing his arm and leading him enthusiastically in the direction of their equally crazed instructor, babbling endlessly about how the eerily similar man would be _so_ _glad_ to see that Neji was finally coming around—

"Lee? Lee! Come over here a minute!" A female voice broke through the morbid haze of Neji's mind. "I can't remember where the scripts are. Could you do me a huge favor and grab 'em for me?"

Mercifully, the spandex-clad boy let go of Neji's arm. "Of course!" he called back, and took off like a shot after promising the comatose Hyuuga he'd be back in a minute flat.

Neji rallied enough of his brain cells to orchestrate a heated glare in the direction the boy had gone.

No. Please. Take all the time you need. …And then another five years, just for good luck.

A girl (the proud owner of the voice that had just saved his sanity, supplied some very distant, but working, part of his mind) sidled up to take Lee's place. She flashed him an apologetic grin. "Sorry. You looked like you needed some rescuing there."

"Thank you," he managed, still trying to reboot his poor, abused brain. His eyes focused absently on the girl's rather distracting buns as he did so.

Shut up. They were on top of her head.

So preoccupied was he that he forgot to initiate a proper conversation. …Not that he would have, even if he weren't.

The silence stretched on for miles.

The girl rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground and looking decidedly awkward. Finally, she stuck out a hand. "Tenten," she offered.

The Hyuuga stared at the hand blankly for a moment before shaking it. "Neji."

The few last bits of gray matter started up again, informing him helpfully that he did, in fact, know this girl. She in was several of his classes. He managed to dredge up a few facts from somewhere in the deep recesses.

Ah, yes, Tenten. Smart. Athletic. Unnervingly good at darts.

"You're…in my class," he informed her dazedly.

She smiled shyly, and nodded. "Yep. Erm. Sorry about Lee. He's nice and enthusiastic and all, but boy, does he know how to take it to the extreme, if y'know what I mean." She lapsed into an uncharacteristically girlish giggling fit before abruptly stopping, a horrified expression on her face. "Um. Sorry. Again."

"It's fine." There was an unidentifiable tension there that made him uncomfortable. He couldn't quite place his finger on what it was.

Tenten chewed absently on her lip. "So, what _does_ bring you to the theater? No offense, or anything, but you look like you'd rather shoot yourself in the foot than be here."

Actually, the head would have been acceptable too, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Apparently, I need a social life," he said bitterly.

She winced. "Ouch. Parental intervention?"

"Something like that."

She flashed him another strained smile, still shifting uneasily. "Well, we've all been there, right? I mean, well, I'm still sorry to hear it and all, but I'm sure you'll do fine. Still, good luck. Although you probably don't need it, because you'll be fine." She paused. "Unless…you don't want to be. I mean, there's nothing wrong with a minor role, and it would mean less social interaction, and I know you hate that—I don't know that in a stalker way, either! It's very common knowledge! Still, uh, good luck…and…yeah."

The awkward silence that followed was thankfully broken when someone chose to oh-so-rudely shove passed the Hyuuga, nearly knocking him off his feet. Neji shot the offender a glare before turning back to the blushing Tenten, and then abruptly did a double take.

"Was that—?" he began incredulously.

Tenten, shoulders slumping with relief at the distraction, followed his gaze. "Wow, Uchiha Sasuke auditioning for a part in the school play? That should be interesting. He's one athletic kid, but I can't see him acting."

"I actually _have_," Neji muttered under his breath. Wonderful. Lee. Gai. And now, from the deepest bowels of Hell, someone had gone and fished out Uchiha Sasuke. Today, clearly, was not his day.

The girl arched a questioning eyebrow. "Really? What was--"

"Tenten! Tenten, I have the scripts!"

Both of them froze. Tenten nodded solemnly to Neji.

"Make yourself scarce while you still can."

She didn't have to tell him twice. The longhaired boy was gone before she'd even managed to turn around.

Murphy's law, however, was not pleased by his quick escape, and therefore arranged for him to, in his haste, collide with the newest person on his avoidance list.

Ebony eyes widened in surprise.

"…The Hell?" Sasuke asked finally, when both boys had regained their balance. "What rock did you crawl out from under, Hyuuga? And _why_? You hate this almost as much as I do."

Well, this was new. Who'd Uchiha been hanging around recently? Last Neji'd checked, the other boy wouldn't have given him the time of day.

He rallied himself. "Parental intervention. What's your excuse?"

"Peer pressure."

Sasuke eyed Neji's smirk warily and added coldly, "I have incredibly psychotic peers."

"I'm sure," the Hyuuga assured him sardonically.

Something of a glaring contest proceeded to commence. It wasn't an _actual_ glaring contest, of course; something that immature was beneath both of them.

Technically speaking, it wasn't their fault. Family rivalry had its role to play in their relationship, as both the Hyuuga and the Uchiha clans were old money and closely knit. Somewhere along the line, some offense or another had occurred between clans, and old grudges died hard. Naturally, the actual nature of the offense had been long forgotten, but both families agreed it was the _principle_ of the matter that counted.

Technicality, however, is overrated. The truth of the matter was that both boys were talented, aggressive, arrogant, highly intelligent, and competitive. All that was needed was a spark, and that came in the form of a certain acting school, the name of which neither would ever dare speak ever again. Both loathed all aspects of that school, and yet, despite the frills, the cheap paint, and the blinding lighting, the moment shale met onyx on that thrice-cursed stage each boy tried his damnedest to outdo the other.

That, thankfully, had been years ago. If it hadn't, one of them probably would've been dead already.

If either Gaara or Naruto had been aware of any of this, they would have been elated. Nothing brought the Uchiha's best out like a healthy dose of competition.

Oh, and it gets better.

"Uchiha! Neji! How good of you to go first! Lee, hand them their scripts!"

"Of course, Gai-sensei!"

Both boys whipped around. Neji felt his eyes widen.

…What? How?

Somehow, they had ended up first in line. Additionally, the curtain had opened. His maniacal martial arts teacher and a sad gaggle of students stared out at them from the audience. Lee pressed a pair of scripts into their hands.

Now, the logical explanation would've been that the other, nervous auditioning students had noticed their preoccupied state and slipped behind them in an effort to put as many people as possible between them and the stage. Gai, over eager as he was, had opened the curtain early, and neither of them had noticed because of their, er…not-staring contest.

That was the logical explanation. Neji chose to blame Fate.

Sasuke had other ideas.

"I blame you," he informed the longhaired boy morosely

Neji rolled his eyes in return.

Yep. Definitely not his day.

* * *

Author's Note

Oh, Neji. Why was your part so long? This was actually supposed to end somewhere quite different, but Neji just would NOT SHUT UP, and thus do I leave you with something that may or may not be considered a cliffhanger.

…Also, forgive the music humor. I play an instrument and thus, those things tend to happen.

Click the magic button, please. It would make me so very pleased.


End file.
